


Natural Addiction

by musette22, paperstorm



Category: Actor RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Sebastian Stan, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Play, Established Relationship, Evanstan - Freeform, Facials, Humiliation, M/M, Oral Sex, POV Sebastian Stan, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, Rough Oral Sex, but only lightly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:47:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23484805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musette22/pseuds/musette22, https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperstorm/pseuds/paperstorm
Summary: It’s been thirteen days, eight hours, and fifty-four minutes, since the last time.Not since the last time they had sex. Sebastian has been staying at Chris’s Massachusetts farmhouse for nearly a month, now, so of course it hasn’t been almost two weeks since they’ve had sex. It’s just been almost two weeks since they’ve done itthatway. The way Sebastian thinks about a lot more than he’d like to admit. And right now, Sebastian needs it, because it’s been far too long since someone’s told him where they wanted him, gave him firm but manageable orders, took decision-making completely away from him, made him feel warm and safe and free the way it does when Chris quirks an eyebrow at him and puts him on his knees.
Relationships: Chris Evans/Sebastian Stan
Comments: 66
Kudos: 360





	Natural Addiction

**Author's Note:**

> This is essentially nothing but filth, because we were bored and quarantine horny. Be warned and enjoy >:)

It has been just shy of two weeks –thirteen days, eight hours, and fifty-three minutes, to be exact – since the last time. Chris has been working so hard, the days getting longer and the stress lines on his forehead growing deeper seemingly by the hour. Sebastian is so proud of him. So fucking proud, more than he could possibly express. And he _has_ tried. He knows how important this website is to Chris, knows how much he cares and how hard he’s worked and that his anxiety naturally is through the roof. He’s trying to be understanding. It’s ridiculous, maybe, for him to be this needy, when other things are so much more important.   
  
But it’s been thirteen days, eight hours, and fifty-four minutes, now, since the last time.  
  
Not since the last time they had sex. Sebastian has been staying at Chris’s Massachusetts farmhouse for nearly a month, now, so of course it hasn’t been almost two weeks since they’ve had sex. It’s just been almost two weeks since they’ve done it _that_ way. The way Sebastian thinks about a lot more than he’d like to admit. The way he knows Chris needs, too. It’s not just him. It’s not as official, with them, as Sebastian thinks it is with other couples. It’s not rigid roles they never break out of. He doesn’t wear his submissive tendencies like a nametag, allowing it to define the entirety of who he is, and Chris works, in therapy, at understanding how much his desires to control things are born from anxiety and learning to not let them run his life. But _sometimes_. Sometimes it’s just right, and their opposites fit together like puzzle pieces, and it’s just exactly what they both need.  
  
And right now, Sebastian needs it. Because it’s been thirteen days, eight hours, and fifty-nine minutes, and he can feel it crawling under his skin. Leaving him hot, prickly, frustrated. Second-guessing every decision, even small ones like which socks to wear or whether he wants regular or flavored cream in his coffee, because it’s been far too long since someone’s told him where they wanted him, gave him firm but manageable orders, took decision-making completely away from him, made him feel warm and safe and _free_ the way it does when Chris quirks an eyebrow at him and puts him on his knees.  
  
Sebastian had gone into Chris’s study to bring him a coffee and a sandwich an hour or so ago, but Chris had been so immersed in whatever it was he was doing that he hadn’t been able to spare Sebastian more than a grateful smile and a quick kiss. Still, with how worked up Sebastian has been feeling today – these past few days, if he’s being honest – that fleeting kiss was enough to make his mind go places it really shouldn’t be going right now, when Chris will be unavailable for the next few hours. He’d tried to suppress the inconvenient thoughts, distract himself with some inane daytime television. But it was no use.   
  
So even though he knows he shouldn’t, Sebastian finds himself knocking on the door to Chris’s study once more that afternoon.  
  
“Come in,” comes Chris’s voice through the sturdy wood. He sounds distracted, but somehow still commanding enough that Sebastian has to take a steadying breath before he enters.  
  
“How’s it going?” he asks, leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms.   
  
“Good, yeah,” Chris nods, quickly glancing up from his paperwork to shoot Sebastian a smile, before he bends his head again.  
  
The reaction makes something petulant and unreasonable spark to life inside of Sebastian, to have Chris so clearly prioritize his work over talking to him right now. It’s silly, he does know that. He knows full well what it’s like to be in the zone and just want to get on with it while you still have that elusive focus, but he can’t deny the need for Chris to _see_ him. To really notice him and look at him and talk to him. Tell him he loves him, that he’s a good boy, and he’s never seen anyone more beautiful in his life.  
  
The need hits Sebastian hard, right in the center of his chest – makes him take a step forward, then another one as he walks over to Chris’s desk and carefully perches on the edge of it. For a minute, he pretends like he’s looking at the documents strewn across Chris’s desk, his eyes flitting over them unseeingly.  
  
“What is all this, then? Looks important.”  
  
Chris just hums, still lost in thought and not really sparing him a second glance. It only serves to make the frown between Sebastian’s eyebrows deepen.   
  
“Oh, you know,” Chris says distractedly. “Just paperwork. Needs to be submitted by tomorrow afternoon so I’ve gotta just put my head down for a bit and finish it tonight, so I can give it a second look in the morning.”  
  
Sebastian’s heart sinks, because that means Chris will probably be in here all night and won’t be able to take care of Sebastian’s needs until tomorrow afternoon at the earliest. But maybe they could be quick? It’s not really what he needs right now, but something’s gotta be better than nothing, right?   
  
It’s worth a shot, he decides.  
  
He inches closer to Chris, reaching out to lightly run a hand over Chris’s chest, clad in a cozy, cable knit navy sweater. “Need a break?”  
  
“Not now,” Chris answers. He doesn’t mean it as dismissive as it sounds. Sebastian knows that. It still sends shivers down his spine. Makes him want to act out, to make a scene about it, just so Chris will punish him. He’s a brat sometimes and he knows it, and doesn’t necessarily love it about himself, but can’t always help it. Especially not around Chris.  
  
“C’mon,” Sebastian pushes. He slides his hand around to the back of Chris’s neck and squeezes the muscles that must be sore from hunching over a desk all day long. Chris’s hair is getting long again, and Sebastian gets his fingers in it and scratches at the base of Chris’s skull. “Just a little one? You’ve been sitting here since 9 AM, can you even feel your ass anymore?”  
  
Chris just hums in a noncommittal, non-answer type of way, and doesn’t look up from his work.  
  
Sebastian clenches his molars together. He isn’t enjoying so much, suddenly, being ignored. The prickling under his skin gets worse. Makes him feel even more off-balance, mind unhelpfully supplying all kinds of nasty thoughts, like maybe he did something really wrong today that he wasn’t even aware of and Chris is angry at him.  
  
He leans down, pressing a kiss to Chris’s hairline, and tries to keep his voice playful as he murmurs, “Want me to feel your ass for you?”  
  
“Sebastian!” Chris snaps. He finally does look up, exasperation on his face, and Sebastian bristles and steps backwards. “I said no, I have work to do.”  
  
Everything inside Sebastian deflates in one smooth, horrible motion. He covers his face with his hands, an unhappy groan falling from his lips, and berates himself. “I’m sorry, fuck, you’re right. I’m sorry,” he says, stepping back further and then turning to leave. This wasn’t at all what he meant to happen, when he came in here. He didn’t mean to actually make Chris angry.  
  
“Wait.”  
  
He’s at the door, and he turns, because even now, as guilt is tumbling in his stomach, that was an order, and Sebastian still needs it.  
  
Chris doesn’t look exasperated anymore. He looks wounded, thick eyebrows knitted together and his hands on the arms of the desk chair. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you.”  
  
Sebastian shakes his head. “It’s okay. You’re busy, you said that. I should’ve listened.”  
  
Chris just looks at him, and Sebastian knows he can see it. He can tell, from the way Chris’s face changes, that Chris can see it written all over him, what’s really going on. “How long?” Chris asks, in a gentle voice.  
  
Sebastian shakes his head, shame creeping up his spine, making him want to curl in on himself and hide because if Chris can see it so easily, what’s to stop anyone else from seeing it too? He should be better at controlling it by now. He should have worked harder at controlling it, instead of giving into it so readily when Chris came into his life and made it all feel better. Like it was fine, that he needs all this, because Chris needed to give it to him, so that made it okay.  
  
“You’re working,” Sebastian says. He drops his gaze and fiddles with the hem of his shirt so he doesn’t have to look into those deep blue eyes that strip him bare too easily. “I’m fine.”  
  
“I asked you a question, Sebastian,” Chris says. His voice low, level, communicating _don’t make me ask you again_ with mountain spring clarity.  
  
Sebastian squirms. “A few days. I don’t know… exactly.”  
  
“A while, at least?”  
  
He nods. Allows himself to squint up at Chris, peek at him, stuck right halfway between hoping Chris pulls him into his lap or sends him away and doesn’t speak to him for the rest of the evening. Instead of either, Chris nods his head, jerking it to one side, indicating for Sebastian to come closer. He does, and Chris takes his hands, guiding him down for a lingering kiss.  
  
“Been feelin’ neglected?” Chris asks, against Sebastian’s mouth. “I’ve been workin’ too hard? Leavin’ you lonely?”  
  
_Yes_ , Sebastian thinks, but he shakes his head. “What you’re doing is important.”  
  
“Oh, baby boy,” Chris murmurs, his voice smooth as honey and rough as gravel. He cups Sebastian’s cheek in his hand. “Nothin’s more important than you.”  
  
The sound that leaves him at those words is completely involuntary and nothing short of pitiful. It’s just that he’s been craving Chris to see him, praise him, call him his baby. To finally get what he needs is like a shot of dopamine straight into Sebastian’s system.  
  
He turns his face into Chris’s palm, eyes fluttering closed. “But,” he manages, through the slowly thickening fog clouding his brain, “you said this needed to be done by tomorrow.”  
  
“I can take a break.” Chris sounds sure and steady, and it settles the worry in Sebastian’s chest a little, the fear that this inconvenient need of his is keeping Chris from doing something important. “Tell you what, sweetheart,” Chris continues. “Why don’t we compromise, hmm?”  
  
Forcing open his eyes, Sebastian blinks down at Chris, waiting for him to elaborate.   
  
“I’m gonna keep working for a little bit – got a few more pages to read through and sign before I take a break – and you’re gonna keep me company.” The hand Chris still has resting on Sebastian’s cheek slides down, curling around the back of his neck before he starts to apply a gentle but unyielding pressure. Slowly, Chris pulls him down, and Sebastian goes willingly, until his knees buckle and he drops gracelessly to the floor in front of Chris.   
  
Already, Sebastian is breathing heavier, his dick starting to perk up inside his jeans at being manhandled just a little.   
  
Chris’s voice is calm and level when he asks, “Are you going to be good for me, Sebastian?” Sebastian whimpers in response, and Chris gives the back of his neck a little shake. It feels like a reprimand. “Answer me.”   
  
“Yes,” Sebastian breathes, looking up at Chris.  
  
Chris fixes him with a steady gaze, the strand of hair that falls onto his forehead doing nothing to make him seem any less put together and intimidating. The fact that Chris seems so unaffected only serves to make Sebastian feel that much needier, a little pathetic, even. He knows it’s partly an act, on Chris’s part, that this little game they’re playing is getting to him more than he lets on. But right in this moment, all Sebastian’s brain can focus on is how big and competent and commanding he looks, even in his soft sweater.  
  
“That’s right,” Chris murmurs approvingly. He lets go of him then, and Sebastian slumps forward, forehead coming to rest against Chris’s thigh. “Now, sit back for me a little. Don’t wanna be in the way, do you?”   
  
“ _No_.” The reply is immediate, instinctive. “No. I wanna be good.”   
  
The smile Chris gives him is soft, making a warm glow spread throughout Sebastian’s chest. “I know you do,” Chris smiles. “‘Cause you’re my good boy, aren’t you, Sebastian?”   
  
“Yes,” Sebastian whispers, feeling more settled already.   
  
“Yes,” Chris agrees. “And good boys…” He lifts his left hand to Sebastian’s face, tracing his fingertips lightly over his lips and finishes, “good boys get rewarded.”  
  
Sebastian parts his lips automatically and Chris chuckles, a low, dark sound that makes him shiver.  
  
“Yeah, you know what’s coming, don’t you, baby?” Without waiting for a reply, Chris presses the tips of his fore and middle finger to Sebastian’s lips, before sliding them inside and pressing down lightly on his tongue. Sebastian closes his lips around them, tongue pressing up as he starts to suck on them eagerly.   
  
“There you go,” Chris says quietly, his thumb gently caressing Sebastian’s chin. “That’s better, huh, sweetheart?”  
  
Sebastian whines around the fingers in his mouth, gripping his own thighs with his hands to keep himself from reaching out and touching Chris without permission.   
  
The next moment, Chris is turning back towards his desk. He picks up his pen in his right hand, focusing on the documents in front of him. Within thirty seconds, it’s like he’s forgotten Sebastian’s even there. Like he doesn’t even register Sebastian kneeling beside him, sucking on his fingers while trying his hardest not to palm himself through his jeans.  
  
It’s kind of embarrassing, and definitely exhilarating. Chris’s fingers are warm in his mouth, the sweet taste of his skin exploding across Sebastian’s tastebuds. Yeah, he needed this. Badly. Much worse than even he realized. Everything slowly rights itself, the whole world tilting back right-side-up and into focus as he lays his cheek on Chris’s thigh and keeps swallowing around his fingers. Minutes pass, days maybe, and Sebastian feels everything narrow down to just this feeling, just Chris’s heat next to him and the ever present weight of his fingers on Sebastian’s tongue. Suddenly he can focus on nothing else. Safe, belonging.  
  
“Baby.”  
  
Sebastian blinks. He hadn’t realized his eyes had been closed.  
  
“Makin’ a mess of yourself _and_ my jeans.” Chris is looking down at him, just a hint of a smirk playing along his lips, and then Sebastian notices he’s drooling down his chin and has left a wet spot on Chris’s pants. He winces, and brings his hand up to wipe at it with his sleeve, more embarrassment rolling through him. It makes him want to hide, to run away, to maybe never see another human being again for as long as he lives because for _fuck’s sake_ he’s a grown man and he’s behaving like an actual, not figurative, baby.   
  
But Chris seems to disagree with Sebastian’s assessment of it. His pupils dilate in the low light, looking down at Sebastian just for a moment like he wants to devour him.  
  
Then his fingers are gone, pulling out of Sebastian’s mouth, and he whines in protest and chases after them, still needing them, regardless of the internal lecture he’d just given himself.  
  
“Shh, honey,” Chris coos at him. “I’m gonna give them back. Just gotta do something for me first.”  
  
Sebastian nods hungrily. He’ll do anything. Anything at all, anything in the whole world. It isn’t even an option anymore for him to refuse. Chris calls the shots, now, and Sebastian feels so much lighter.  
  
Chris taps the floor in front of him with the toe of his socked foot. Sebastian wants to obey but it takes him a moment to understand what Chris is saying. That Chris wants him, not just next to him on the floor, but between his legs. _Under_ the desk. Like a dog, tucked out of sight and out of the way. Sebastian hears another pathetic whimper spill from his lips and his cock throbs in his pants and he scrambles, crawling underneath the furniture and settling on his knees between Chris’s spread legs.  
  
“Good boy,” Chris whispers, reverent, the endearment usual for them when they’re like this but it doesn’t escape Sebastian’s chemical-soaked brain that it’s also what Chris would say to a literal dog. Like he’s Dodger and Chris doesn’t have the patience to deal with him right now. It’s humiliating, degrading, dehumanizing, and it makes him feel like he’s flying. Sebastian wants to stay in this spot forever, tucked away, Chris’s strong legs bracketing his shoulders and pressing into him, keeping him safe and firmly in place, not letting him move until Chris decides it’s time.  
  
He gasps when Chris’s thick fingers slide back into his hair, tugging sharply, and pain dances along his scalp.  
  
“Are you gonna be good? I still have a bit more to go.”  
  
Sebastian nods quickly. “Yes, I promise. Please.”  
  
“Please what?” Chris asks. He’s so steady, so solid, looking down at Sebastian over the line of his nose, fingers still squeezing a handful of Sebastian’s hair. When Sebastian doesn’t answer right away, Chris raises an eyebrow at him, and just that simple gesture alone makes his cock throb again. Chris looks so imposing when he does that, not allowing for any dissent, annoyed that he’s even had to consider asking twice.  
  
“Fingers,” Sebastian breathes, around heavy swells of arousal in his gut. “Please.”  
  
“That’s better.” Chris’s grip on his hair loosens, and his big palm cups Sebastian’s cheek. His thumb, this time, slides between Sebastian’s lips, and Sebastian sucks it in greedily, swallowing around it. Chris presses down, nearly hard enough to hurt, against his tongue, before letting up again. Sebastian swears he can hear an angel chorus.   
  
Chris turns back to his work once more, leaving Sebastian to kneel at his feet under the desk as if he’s out of sight, out of mind. More time passes, but this time around, Sebastian is unable to slip back into that heavenly state of just _being_ , floating just from being good for Chris and have that be enough. This time, he wants _more_. If Chris hadn’t snapped him out of his earlier reverie, Sebastian might have been able to exist like that for hours, curled up with his head on Chris’s leg. But since he did, the spell is broken and it isn’t enough for Sebastian anymore. Pressing his cheek a little more firmly against Chris’s thigh, he swirls his tongue around his thumb, gently massaging it in an attempt to get Chris riled up enough to pay attention to him.  
  
Sebastian keeps at it for a good few minutes, but when Chris doesn’t even shift, doesn’t make a sound that could indicate he’s aware of Sebastian basically fellating his finger, he grows frustrated. So he shuffles in further between Chris’s spread legs until he can lightly nuzzle the inside of Chris’s thigh. There’s already a sizeable bulge inside Chris’s pants – the only indication that he’s affected by any of this at all. Sebastian inches closer to it, certain that if he can just get his hands or his mouth on him for just one moment, he’ll be able to convince Chris to leave his work be for today and give Sebastian his full attention.  
  
Before he reaches his destination, however, Chris suddenly retracts his thumb from his mouth and in a lightning-fast move slips his hand into Sebastian’s hair and _pulls_.  
  
Sebastian cries out at the sudden, sharp sting, head jerking backwards, away from the where he’s aching to be.   
  
“Uh uh,” Chris tuts, fingers still curled tight in Sebastian’s hair. “You know better than that.”   
  
His voice is a low rumble, sounding both reproving and disappointed, and it makes shame tangle helplessly around Sebastian’s insides. He stills, long enough for Chris to release the punishing grip on his hair, instead just resting his hand atop Sebastian’s head. Almost like he’s been petting his dog and got distracted halfway through, and Sebastian can’t repress the urge to make that hand move, get Chris to stroke his hair and call him a good boy again.   
  
Chris does no such thing, of course, and so, figuring that maybe bad attention is better than no attention at all, Sebastian tries again. This time, he just goes for it. Leans in and pushes his face straight into Chris’s crotch. It’s so good to feel the hardness under his cheeks, that confirmation that Chris wants him, finds him desirable, even if his actions seem to speak differently. Sebastian nuzzles the sizeable bulge, rubbing his face on it like a cat and inhaling deeply to catch a faint whiff of Chris’s undeniable arousal.   
  
He only gets to revel in it for a second, though, before Chris is yanking his head back again, firmer this time than before. “I know it’s hard,” Chris says – and Sebastian would’ve snorted at the double entendre if his consciousness hadn’t been quite so fuzzy, and Chris’s voice hadn’t sounded quite so stern – “but I need you to be good for me for five more minutes. If you can do that for me, I’ll let you have it, and if you can’t, you don’t get it for a week. Is that understood?”  
  
It’s all said in a perfectly level voice, as if there isn’t currently an erection straining against the confines of his pants. As if he actually doesn’t care at all whether Sebastian will ever get his mouth on him. It’s such a stark contrast with how wild and needy Sebastian is feeling right now that he can’t help but squirm a little where he sits. His face is on fire, his dick throbbing, rock hard and begging for attention yet still of secondary importance to Chris’s.  
  
Sebastian so desperately wants to have Chris’s dick in his mouth at this point that he’s about willing to beg for it, but Chris’s threat is still fresh in the forefront of his mind. It takes everything he has to keep still, those five minutes feeling like five centuries while he waits, and waits some more. He tries to count the seconds as they tick by but loses track, but it _must_ be longer than five minutes. It just must be, it feels like an age. While he does manage not to move, he’s helpless to stop the little sounds, the frustrated noises in the back of his throat that he can’t control even though he wants to. When one of those sounds grows, without his permission, into an all-out whine, Sebastian inhales sharply, holding his breath as he awaits Chris’s reaction.  
  
But instead of telling him off, Chris suddenly lets go and rolls back his chair, away from him. Sebastian nearly panics, afraid he’s crossed the line and Chris has decided he’s had enough of Sebastian’s antics and is just going to leave him here, under this desk, to stew in his shame.   
  
But then, Chris’s hands drop to his own pants, quickly pulling down the zipper and tugging them down before he reaches inside his underwear and pulls out his dick.  
  
Sebastian’s heart rate spikes, both at the turn of events and at the sight of Chris’s beautiful cock, thick and straight, flushed and wet at the tip. His mouth, still aching to have something to suck on, immediately starts to water, as a tiny little _please_ falls from his lips entirely without his consent.  
  
“I know, baby,” Chris coos, scooting closer again and reaching out, caressing Sebastian’s cheek with the back of his fingers. He stays leaned over so Sebastian can see his face, even though the desk restricts his field of vision. “You need it bad, don’t you?”   
  
He sounds almost a little patronizing, and Sebastian, already opening his mouth in anticipation, revels in it.  
  
“Come and get it then,” Chris tells him – and then he makes a clicking noise with his tongue like the one he uses to call Dodger over to give him a treat, beckoning him over.  
  
The sound makes heat and shame and dizzying arousal shoot through Sebastian, all swirling together in a confusing, intoxicating mix of sensations that make his head spin. He all but dives in, so eager and desperate for it that he tries to swallow all of Chris down in one go.   
  
As Sebastian has found on plenty of occasions, however, he needs to go slow, build up to deep-throating Chris – not because he’s inexperienced, far from it, but because Chris’s dick is _big_. His common sense seems to have taken a backseat tonight, though, because Sebastian doesn’t by any means go slow. When the head of Chris’s cock hits the back of his throat, he gags, spluttering as he’s forced to pull off and gasp for air.  
  
“ _Easy_. Easy, sweet boy,” Chris murmurs, his tone just on this side of chiding. “What’s the big rush, huh? I’m not even done with my paperwork yet.”   
  
Sebastian feels his eyes water, both from accidentally choking himself on Chris’s dick and from feeling like he’s let Chris down again.   
  
“Sorry,” he rasps, “I’m sorry, I didn’t –”  
  
“Oh hey, now,” Chris interrupts him, stroking Sebastian’s cheek, thumb wiping away the tears that are threatening to spill over. “It’s alright. I’m so lucky to have a sweet boy like you who wants to please me so badly. I love you very much, baby boy. You know that right?”   
  
The words make Sebastian’s heart feel like it’s bursting, rippling outwards and making him shudder as he rubs his face into Chris’s palm. “Yes,” he whispers. “Love you too, Chris.”   
  
“I know you do, sweetheart. Now, can you be good for me one more time?” When Sebastian nods, Chris adds, “Alright. Get back under the desk for me, please.”   
  
Sebastian shuffles backwards and Chris rolls his chair closer to the desk again, trapping him under it once more. Chris’s left hand cups his cheek, thumb rubbing the corner of his mouth, and Sebastian opens up obediently, pleased with himself for not needing to be told. Slowly, Chris guides his cock inside, just resting it on his tongue.   
  
“That’s it,” Chris praises, making Sebastian’s chest feel warm again. “Close your mouth. But no moving, alright? You can just keep it warm for me for a bit, can’t you? There’s a good boy.” And with a final, slightly condescending pat to Sebastian’s cheek, Chris pulls back his hands and resumes his work.  
  
As the full extent of what’s happening finally registers in Sebastian’s overwrought brain, a groan tears itself from his throat, low and wanton, making Chris’s cock twitch in his mouth. Chris wants him to keep his cock warm. He’s not asking Sebastian to get him off, to pleasure him. He’s just giving him something to keep in his mouth, like Sebastian wanted so badly, and it happens to be his cock. It’s absolutely humiliating, and maybe the hottest thing that’s ever happened to Sebastian in his entire life.   
  
He breathes hard through his nose, trying to ground himself for fear he might just drift off to another plane of existence right there and then. Digging his fingers into the meat of his own thighs again, he tries to focus on the pain. Forces himself to focus on Chris’s smell, musky and manly yet clean, and the salty-bitter taste of Chris’s precome, leaking onto his tongue. He whimpers again, and he swallows, a reflex. When Chris doesn’t scold him for that, even though he must be able to feel it, Sebastian decides to test the waters. He presses up his tongue against the underside of Chris’s dick, lightly sucking on the head like he would on a pacifier.   
  
There’s a barely audible sigh from Chris, and his cock dribbles out some more precome, which Sebastian greedily swallows, but other than that, there’s no reaction. And so, Sebastian sits there like that, obediently warming the cock in his mouth until he starts to drool again, while Chris ignores him completely.   
  
Sebastian has died and gone to heaven. He floats, floats like cherry blossoms drifting on a warm spring breeze, like a leaf along a lazy river, careless and formless and all sorts of other cotton candy metaphors. His jaw aches from keeping it still, his knees ache from the hardwood floor, his legs ache from being crumpled up underneath him, and it’s such a _good_ ache. So present and throbbing and perfect. He wants to stay forever right in this spot. Let the days and weeks and months change around him but just stay right here, growing moss, between Chris’s legs, with the quiet scratch of Chris’s pen on the desk above him and the way Chris breathes, steady but heavy. Sebastian shivers every time he has to swallow, just a reflex against the spit gathering in his mouth, and Chris’s cock twitches and leaks further salt onto his tongue. Sebastian might not even be hard himself anymore, he can’t tell, because his legs are going numb and his head is spinning and he feels so good he could cry, but he won’t, because Chris didn’t tell him he could.  
  
A slow moan echoes off the walls of the room, and Sebastian understands he’s the one who made it, but understands it in a dreamy, distanced way. He knows it, but doesn’t feel it, senses too overloaded.  
  
“Fuck,” a quiet voice mutters above him, so Sebastian does it again, unconsciously, moving his tongue over the ridges under it because it feels good, having something solid to rub his tongue over.  
  
Sebastian swallows again, and then a loud thud from above him startles him, like Chris just slammed both hands down onto the desk’s surface. It makes Sebastian jump, heart racing, Chris’s cock falling out of his mouth. Chris’s heat is gone, suddenly, his legs moving away from Sebastian’s shoulders as he pushes the rolling chair backwards, far enough so Sebastian can see all of him.  
  
He’s panting, mouth open and lips red and shiny like he’s been biting them, and his knuckles have gone white where he’s gripping the arms of the chair. He looks wrecked, such a contrast to the last time Sebastian could see him – minutes ago, hours maybe, he couldn’t say – when he’d been calm and collected and in charge. Now he looks frantic, and when he grips his own cock and holds it upright and indicates for Sebastian to come closer, Sebastian absolutely clambers forward in a panicked rush of movement, rising up on his knees and grabbing steadying handfuls of Chris’s jeans, letting Chris feed him his cock again.  
  
Chris takes Sebastian’s head into his hands then, fingertips digging painfully into his skull, and doesn’t give him a moment to adjust before he thrusts his hips forward and pushes his cock to the back of Sebastian’s throat. Sebastian gags but Chris doesn’t stop, because Sebastian doesn’t want him to stop, doesn’t ever want him to stop. It’s quick, and rough, and Sebastian’s heart soars.  
  
“God, you’re a _fucking_ menace,” Chris is growling at him, keeping Sebastian’s head steady and just using him, taking full advantage of the wheels on the bottom of his chair to rock back and forth more affectively like he’s a hammer and Sebastian is a nail and he has no choice just to crouch there on the floor and take what Chris gives him, and love it. And he _does_ love it.  
  
Sebastian holds onto Chris’s thigh, eyes watering, jaw slackening and starting to ache, swoops of arousal in his gut making him shiver. Every inch of him throbs, being used just like he likes, being nothing but a tool to make Chris feel good, his whole life’s purpose narrowed down in this moment to what Chris wants, what Chris needs.  
  
“Teasing me like that,” Chris continues, vocal like he always is when he’s especially riled up, and Sebastian lives and dies for Chris talking to him in that rough, low voice. Soaks it up like sustenance, could survive on nothing else for as long as he lives. “Sitting under that desk, so good for me, even though I know you were squirming. Know you were aching to beg me for more. What if I worked in a real office, huh? If I had a normal job. Would you come visit me? Sit under my desk and keep my dick warm for me while I worked?”  
  
Sebastian moans, so loud it’s deafening in his own ears, delirious as he conjures the image Chris is painting him while he fucks his face.  
  
“You would, if I asked, wouldn’t you baby?” Chris’s thumb moves, finding the corner of Sebastian’s mouth, forcing it open wider. “You’d do anything I asked. You’d sit there all fuckin’ day long, and people would come in and out of my office, and you’d just have to sit there, keep quiet, so nobody would figure it out. We’d be in so much trouble, if anyone knew, so you’d have to be _so_ good. Think you could manage that?”  
  
Sebastian tries to nod, but can’t, with the way Chris is holding his head steady to keep him from moving. Tears stream down the sides of his face, and underneath his jeans, his boxers are soaked. He wants to come so badly even though he hasn’t put so much as a single finger between his legs. But Chris would be so disappointed if he did it without permission, so he doesn’t.  
  
Chris and the chair roll away abruptly, cock pulling out of Sebastian’s mouth, and Sebastian whines and tries to lunge forward for it but Chris doesn’t let him.  
  
“ _Stay_ ,” Chris says sharply, yet another command for a well-trained animal, and Sebastian shudders. Chris grins at him, predatory, hungry, understanding the game they’re playing, and softly adds, “sit.”  
  
Still shivering, Sebastian lowers himself down, ass on his heels.  
  
Another leering grin. “Good boy,” Chris murmurs. He curls his fingers around his own cock, strokes a few times slowly, through the mess of spit Sebastian had left on it. “Don’t move until I say you can,” he orders, waiting with a raised eyebrow for Sebastian to nod before he scoots forward again on the chair, close enough to smear the messy tip of his dick along Sebastian’s swollen lips.  
  
The tiniest sob escapes Sebastian’s throat, but he stays still. His tongue wants so badly to slip out and taste, so he presses it down against the backs of his teeth.  
  
“Tell me,” Chris is saying, in maybe the lowest, most rumbly voice Sebastian has ever heard, “what it felt like. Being down there.”  
  
“Good,” he answers, the word breathy and barely there.  
  
Chris gives him the eyebrow again.  
  
“ _Good_ , it… I don’t know.” Sebastian squeezes his eyes shut. “I’m sorry, please.”  
  
“Sebastian.”  
  
He opens them again, blinking through blurry vision up at Chris. He’s so perfect, so gorgeous, so good to him, and Sebastian yearns to please him.  
  
“Tell me what it felt like,” Chris repeats, smearing his cockhead along Sebastian’s cheek, just to spread the fluid around even more, marking him up, “and you can have this back and get me off.”  
  
Sebastian’s inhale rattles in his lungs, and he swallows, and tries to concentrate. “It was … felt like I was your pet.”  
  
Chris hums, and strokes himself, squeezing around the head to coax another pearl of moisture out of it that he spreads over Sebastian’s other cheek. “You are.”  
  
“Felt like your damn dog, like… I was a nuisance. I fucking loved it.” Sebastian doesn’t know what it says about him, that he loved it as much as he did. He isn’t sure he wants to pull too hard at that thread.  
  
Chris seems to agree. His smirk widens, something dangerous flashing in his darkened blue eyes that only comes out when Sebastian’s really worked him up, and his thumb presses Sebastian’s bottom lip, urging him to part them again. He slides his dick back in, other hand cupping the back of Sebastian’s neck as he leans back in the chair. “All yours, baby.”  
  
Sebastian doesn’t need to be told twice. His hands grab hold of Chris’s hips and he lowers his mouth over Chris’s length again, more careful this time, letting him slide slowly deep into his throat to avoid triggering his gag reflex. When he starts to move, he doesn’t hold back. There’s no subtlety to it tonight, no finesse whatsoever, just a primal, animal need to please and be owned and feel _good_. And God, does he feel good. With Chris’s cock hitting the back of his throat over and over again as Sebastian bobs his head, Chris’s hand firmly gripping the back of his neck and making him feel like he couldn’t go anywhere even if he wanted to, Sebastian feels _alive_.  
  
It’s the messiest head he’s ever given, there’s no doubt about it. There’s saliva running down his chin, the precome smeared on his cheeks mixing with the tears leaking from his eyes, caused by the ache in his jaw and the intrusion in the back of his throat. It’s getting harder to breathe now that his nose has started to run too, but he doesn’t slow down despite the light-headedness. Relishes it, in fact. He feels reckless, solely focused on getting Chris off, on making him feel as good as he deserves. Right now, that’s Sebastian’s only goal. His only reason for existing.  
  
“Oh fuck,” Chris is saying, somewhere nearby, “ _baby_ , that fuckin’ mouth of yours… Made to suck cock. Not for anything else, just for choking on my dick. Am I right, sweetheart?”   
  
Sebastian whines loudly, wants to cry his assent, but he can’t take his mouth off Chris to do so, not now, so he just swallows around the head of his dick to make him groan again, unrestrained and almost growl-like. The sounds Chris makes are like music to Sebastian’s ears, and he wants to bottle them and keep them for rainy days, days when the world loses its sparkle and he feels like he’s swimming against the current.  
  
Meanwhile, Chris hasn’t stopped praising him for a second. “You take it so well, baby boy,” he coos, running a hand through Sebastian’s messy hair. “Feels so fuckin’ good, looking all pretty kneeling at my feet with my dick in your mouth” – Sebastian swirls his tongue deliberately around the tip as he looks Chris straight in the eye, and Chris sucks in a whistling breath through his teeth. “ _Jesus Christ,_ honey, the mouth on you.”  
  
And then he’s grabbing Sebastian’s head between both of his hands again, vice-like, keeping him in place as he starts fucking Sebastian’s face again. Sebastian lets him. He trusts Chris completely, knows he’d never do anything to actually hurt him, not even when he’s out of his mind with lust. But he _knows_ how much Sebastian craves to be used like this, to be nothing more than a hole for Chris to fuck, whether it’s his mouth or his ass, it doesn’t matter, as long as Chris gets off in him, or on him.  
  
“Yeah,” Chris pants, sounding crazy with it as his thrusts start to grow sloppier. “You’re my good boy, aren’t you? My greedy little cockslut, taking it so beautifully – _Christ_ , honey, look at you.”   
  
On the next upstroke, Chris jams his cock down Sebastian’s throat, grinding in and making him choke on it for real. He keeps him there for a long moment while Sebastian struggles to breathe, before he abruptly pulls him off by his hair. Sebastian retches, coughs and then gulps in a rasping breath, the air burning in his throat and lungs in a way that feels like both a punishment and a relief.  
  
“On my face,” he gasps, desperate, “come on my face, Chris, please, I _need_ –”   
  
Chris lets out a shuddering sigh. “Yeah, fuck yeah. Want me to come all over that pretty face of yours? Have it dripping down your cheeks, into that dirty, pretty mouth?”   
  
Chris has taken his cock into his own hand now, stripping it quickly, mercilessly, as he works himself quickly to the edge of orgasm. “Oh hell,” he mutters breathlessly, looking down at Sebastian with dark, hooded eyes, “gonna come, baby – _fuck_ –”   
  
Sebastian tilts his face upwards in an utterly submissive gesture, staring intently at Chris’s face because he won’t miss a single moment of this. Then Chris grabs Sebastian’s chin with his left hand, immobilizing him, right before he grunts and comes hard, white ropes of come painting Sebastian’s face and neck, and probably his hair, too. Some of it lands in his open mouth, and Sebastian sticks out his tongue to lick some come off his chin and swallow it greedily, moaning at the taste. Chris’s fingers squeeze his chin hard enough to bruise as he comes endlessly, his beautiful face slackened and hunched over.   
  
When he finally releases his grip, Sebastian must be covered in it, must look absolutely debauched, and wishes there was mirror nearby so he could see it. Claimed by Chris, marked by him, made impossible to ever be owned by anybody else.  
  
Chris’s head tips back, and he brings his hands up to cover his face, chest heaving for a few moments as he comes down from it, and Sebastian wants to lean forward and bury his face into Chris’s thigh. Then he doesn’t want to, because he doesn’t want to dirty Chris’s jeans, and then he remembers drooling on them earlier so they’ll need washing anyway. He rests his forehead against the denim, a warm, sunset feeling washing over him when one of Chris’s hands drops and curls around the back of his neck again.  
  
“Fuck,” Chris sighs, heartfelt.  
  
Sebastian nuzzles him, the tip of his nose running along Chris’s still mostly-hard cock, trying to be gentle about it because it must be sensitive even though he aches to take the head back into his mouth and suck on it like he had before. Chris had better know what he’s gotten himself into, making Sebastian do that, because he’s going to be demanding it all the damn time from now on.  
  
“Clean me up,” Chris’s voice says, low again but not as commanding as before.  
  
Sebastian does, eagerly but lightly licking at the tip of his dick to gather up the last few blurts of come. When he’s done, he blinks up at Chris, eyelashes sticking together a little, and if heart-eyes was a real life thing too, Chris would be making them now.  
  
“So fuckin’ sweet,” he mutters, seemingly almost just to himself. Not as praise meant specifically for Sebastian because he craves it, just Chris’s real, unfiltered thoughts. If possible, that makes Sebastian tingle even more for it.  
  
Chris releases him in favor of undoing the buttons on his cardigan and shrugging out of it. After he’s dropped it down to the floor, he pulls the white t-shirt he’d been wearing underneath over his head and off, revealing his big arms, his taut stomach, the hair on his chest that Sebastian loves, the pale expanse of his freckled skin reddened from the heat and the exertion. He takes Sebastian’s chin back between his thumb and forefinger and uses his t-shirt to wipe his face until it’s clean – or, cleaner, at least, than it was. The tackiness of bodily fluids will remain on his skin and Sebastian doesn’t care.  
  
He watches as Chris tucks himself back into his underwear, but doesn’t bother with the zipper on his pants. Then Chris smiles at him, soft and loving, and pats his thigh with one hand. It feels herculean, after so long kneeling, but Sebastian manages to force his cramped legs to work. He gets up and climbs gratefully onto Chris’s lap, falling into a kiss.  
  
Chris hums against his lips, cupping Sebastian’s cheeks possessively, kissing him deeply. “Love you,” Chris whispers to him. “Think you were right. I needed that too.”  
  
Sebastian nods, and swallows over a lump in his throat. If Chris is going to start getting emotional about it, Sebastian will be done for, because all his emotions are already swimming far too close to the surface, and he’s still hard in his own jeans, and needed to come an hour ago, and might not have the capacity for a conversation about love at the moment. At least not without bursting into tears.  
  
Chris keeps kissing him, and the way Sebastian tips forward into it makes his cock rub against the inside of his underwear. He whines deep in his throat.  
  
Another hum, an understanding one this time, and Chris reaches down between them, cupping Sebastian through his pants and squeezing gently, making him squirm. “I know you don’t think I forgot about you, honey,” Chris tells him.  
  
Sebastian shakes his head, and then thinks maybe he was supposed to nod, and then forgets whether there was even a question that needed answering.  
  
“Not here, though,” Chris continues, massaging him lightly. “What I wanna do to you is gonna require a little more room to get horizontal.”  
  
Sebastian shudders, anticipation ziplining through him, but Chris’s words make him remember where they are – in Chris’s office – and why they’re in here in the first place. “Your work…” he says weakly, gesturing behind him, no real conviction in it but feeling guilty anyway.  
  
“Oh, _now_ he cares about my work,” Chris jokes. He wraps an arm tight around Sebastian’s waist and guides his head down, into a proper cuddle, so he can kiss Sebastian’s cheek as he teases him. Makes sure Sebastian knows they’re alright. “Now that he’s got what he wanted from me. That’s all I am to you, huh? Just a cock with legs?”  
  
Sebastian smiles into Chris’s neck. “No. You’re everything.”  
  
Chris exhales nosily, and his arms hug tight around Sebastian’s back. “Everything in the whole world, baby. Nothin’ on this planet I care about as much as you. Never will be.”  
  
“Me too,” Sebastian swears back. “You did have stuff to get done, though. I don’t wanna be the reason you’re stressed tomorrow.”  
  
“Nah, you were right. I was readin’ the same sentence over and over and not realizing I was doing it. I did need a break.” Chris’s hand slides down, smooth along the knobs of Sebastian’s spine, and pushes into the back of his pants. His fingers dip, pushing gently between the cheeks, finding Sebastian’s hole and pressing on it. “How about I take you to the bedroom and give this a little workout?”  
  
Sebastian shudders, his body lighting up with desire again after it’d abated just slightly while he was curled up safe in Chris’s arms. But where before it had been enough – no, it had been _everything_ to concentrate on Chris’s pleasure, right now, Sebastian’s entire being is screaming at him to find some sort of release for the pressure, the urge that’s been building inside him since he first stepped into Chris’s office this afternoon. To feed his natural addiction.  
  
So he buries his face in Chris’s neck, nodding shakily. “Yes, please.”   
  
“Alright. Why don’t you go wash up, and make sure to pay some extra attention to this, hmm?” His fingertip rubs over Sebastian’s entrance again as if there’s any doubt as to what exactly he could mean. “I’ll be waiting for you in the bedroom when you’re done, okay?”   
  
“Okay,” Sebastian agrees. Chris leans in to give him one more lingering kiss, and then Sebastian climbs off Chris’s lap before making his way to the bathroom.  
  
His legs are shaky, pins and needles and sore muscles from being in the same cramped position for too long. His jaw aches, throat feeling raw and sore in a way he knows he’s going to feel tomorrow – and he feels _great._ There’s nothing he adores more than feeling the evidence of all the things Chris did to him because he wants him and loves him. It makes him feel owned, and that’s what Sebastian craves all the time. He makes quick work of his shower, scrubbing his face clean of the various bodily fluids and washing off the sweat from the exertion. It’s a struggle to keep from touching his aching dick too much, jutting out hard and angry red between his legs, but he doesn’t give it more than a cursory clean before he concentrates on washing up thoroughly between his legs and cheeks.   
  
His entire body is thrumming in anticipation, _so_ ready for whatever Chris has got in store for him. He dries off quickly, not bothering to get dressed again, and hastens to the master bedroom. When he enters, the curtains are closed and Chris has turned on the bedside lamps, even though it’s only twilight outside. He’s changed into pyjama pants, still gloriously shirtless, and when Sebastian walks through the door, his gaze turns to him immediately. Chris’s muscles aren’t as defined, these days, as they were a few short years ago, when they had to be. If possible, he’s more gorgeous now than he was when he was spending hours a day at the gym and surviving on vegetables and lean chicken. He’s softer, stronger, much more powerful. He makes Sebastian’s mouth water. Chris’s eyes roam slowly, hungrily, down Sebastian’s body and back up again, before locking with his.  
  
“C’mere, baby.”  
  
Sebastian obeys as if there’s a string between his body and Chris’s and Chris is pulling on it, stumbling over on coltish, clumsy legs and practically falling into him. Chris catches him, because he always does, and pulls him closer, into a deep, simmering kiss. Sebastian’s erection is pressing inadvertently against Chris’s crotch, clothed in soft linen, and he moans, unwittingly rubbing against him in search of some relief. It’s only when Chris starts to chuckle against his lips that Sebastian realizes what he’s been doing, and he stills.  
  
“Sorry,” he whispers, eyes wide. “I didn’t mean to –”  
  
“It’s alright, sweetheart,” Chris assures him, hand coming up to reassuringly stroke his hair. Sebastian feels the rumble of his voice in his own chest, where it’s pressed against Chris’s. “I know you need me to take care of you now.” Sliding his hands down Sebastian’s smooth, bare back, Chris grabs two handfuls of his ass, giving it a quick squeeze and orders, “Get on the bed – face down, ass up.”   
  
Sebastian gulps, then scrambles to do as he’s told, climbing onto the mattress and laying down in the middle. He shuffles his knees halfway under himself and spreads his legs slightly, so that his bare ass is sticking up in the air a just little.   
  
Chris hums appreciatively, and even though Sebastian can’t see him from this angle, he can practically feel him stalking closer, like a predator approaching its prey. The bed dips behind him when Chris kneels onto it. Then, he feels the tickling sensation of warm breath ghosting his ass. A soft, cool stream of air over and between his cheeks, over his hole and perineum, his tight, sensitive balls where they hang heavily between his legs. It makes him shiver, goosebumps erupting all over his skin.   
  
“My sweet, beautiful boy,” Chris says, voice low and reverent. “Who do you belong to?”   
  
“You,” Sebastian replies immediately, the answer crystal clear in his mind despite the haze of arousal. “I belong to you.”  
  
“And whose ass is this?” A light, openhanded slap lands across his right ass cheek, catching Sebastian by surprise. He moans, wriggling in the hopes Chris might slap it again. He does, a slightly more forceful hit that stings, just a little. “Answer me, Sebastian.”  
  
“Yours,” Sebastian chokes out, “’s your ass, Chris.”   
  
“That’s right,” Chris agrees. “This ass is mine, and mine alone.” He smooths his hands over the gentle curve of him, then suddenly grabs at it, kneading the lean muscle before pulling his cheeks apart, spreading him open. “Hottest little ass I’ve ever seen, baby,” Chris groans. “God, I wish I had a camera right now. You should see how pretty you look down here. Gorgeous.” The mental image hits Sebastian like a ton of bricks, shame and lust mingling in his gut and making him push back into Chris’s hands. Chris coos. “Such a pretty little hole, baby boy, so tight, _fuck_. ‘S just begging for me to get my mouth on it, isn’t it?”  
  
He’s not wrong. Sebastian’s poor, exposed ass has been aching to be touched for ages, his cock and balls throbbing heavily between his legs. He mewls softly into the sheets, already losing the capacity for speech. For a moment, nothing happens, and Sebastian is about to beg again, when he suddenly feels a wet tongue, licking a long, broad stripe over his hole.  
  
“Uuhhh,” Sebastian moans, his body lighting up at the sensation. “ _More_ , oh God.”   
  
Chris laughs silently. “Greedy, huh? Want me to give you more, baby boy?”   
  
“ _Please_ ,” Sebastian repeats, for what feels like the fiftieth time this afternoon. “Please Chris, I need it, I’m – I can’t, _ooohh_.”  
  
Before Sebastian can finish that rambling sentence, Chris leans in and buries his face in Sebastian’s ass, nosing at his hole before licking at it with long, lavish strokes of his tongue. He’s humming again, the vibrations sending tremors running up Sebastian’s back and through his loins. Chris’s full, soft beard rubs the inside of his cheeks, the place where his thighs meet his ass. It adds to the sudden onslaught of sensations; the soft, lush swirl of Chris’s tongue, combined with the rough scratch of his beard. Sebastian makes a hurt sound when Chris scrapes his teeth over the sensitive skin on the inside of his cheeks before he bites down gently, his tongue laving over the spot he’s marking up.   
  
It hurts in the best way, and Sebastian’s breathing hard already, the urge to drop to the mattress and rub himself against it getting almost too intense to ignore. He doesn’t. He wants so badly to be good right now, to be rewarded, not punished.   
  
Once he’s satisfied, Chris turns his attention back to his original destination, tongue rubbing over Sebastian’s asshole in slow, maddening circles that have him biting down on his lip so hard he thinks he might taste blood. Just when he thinks he’s really going to go mad with it, Chris points his tongue, probing deliberately at the tight ring of muscle. Sebastian’s breath hitches. He tries to relax, to work with Chris, but his whole body feels strung tight. Chris must notice, because his hands start rubbing soothing circles on either side of Sebastian’s hips. His mouth doesn’t relent, though, the tip of his tongue flicking over the tight pucker in little kitten licks before it’s pushing again, working itself steadily inside.  
  
“That’s it,” Chris murmurs after a while, placing a soft kiss on the center before licking at it again. “Just relax for me, sweetheart. You’re doing so good.”   
  
The praise makes Sebastian sigh, tension leaking from his muscles as he relaxes further, allowing Chris in. Soon, Chris is licking into him properly, eating him out like he’s content to keep at it for the rest of the night, and Sebastian is a losing all sense of time again, floating on that soft, cotton candy cloud, reveling in being the sole focus of Chris’s attention. But when Chris seals his lips over Sebastian’s hole and _sucks_ , Sebastian let’s out a high-pitched wail, ringing out embarrassingly loud in the quiet room.  
  
“Oh, ohh, Chris, _please,_ _Chris_.” Sebastian is full-on begging now, suddenly burning with renewed urgency, a need for something _more._ Chris must notice the change in his demeanor because he lets up, pulling back and leaning over Sebastian, kissing the notches of his spine.  
  
“How’re you doing, darlin’?” His voice is a little rough, but gentle and steady, an anchor for Sebastian to hold on to, keeping him from floating away entirely. “You with me still?”   
  
Sebastian just hums in reply, pushing himself back against Chris while he catches his breath and his mind tumbles over itself. He _wants_ to just ask for it like he knows Chris likes, but the words get stuck in his throat so he stays silent.  
  
“You sure, baby?” Chris presses, perceptive as ever. “Anything you wanna tell me?”   
  
“I –” Sebastian starts, then swallows. “Just – ugh.”   
  
“What is it? Use you words, c’mon. Be good for me, now. I know you can.”   
  
Sebastian’s face is flaming, embarrassment making it hard to get the words out, even though he knows they’re way beyond embarrassment at this point, with everything they’ve done to and with each other over the last few years.  
  
“Fuckin’ teasing,” he rasps finally. “I _need_ –”   
  
“Oh,” Chris says softly, understanding, although it’s all for show. He already understood. “Oh, I see, honey. You need something in you? Your pretty hole aching to be filled up, is that it?”  
  
Sebastian nods into the pillow, and hopes to God Chris sees it because he’s not sure he has the ability to actually voice it right now, even though he knows it’s what Chris wants of him. His mouth doesn’t remember how to form words anymore. He tries, but only air comes out.  
  
“Words,” Chris tries again, pressing a gentle kiss to Sebastian’s tailbone.  
  
He _tries_ , and all that will come out is a fractured, “ _please_.”  
  
Chris’s lips curve into a smile against his skin. “Okay, baby,” he whispers.  
  
His heat is gone, just for a moment, and Sebastian’s legs shake underneath him with the continued exertion and then he can’t hold them anymore and his knees slide slowly down the mattress, his body deflating down like someone pulled his plug and leaving him flat on his stomach. His dick presses into the sheets, and that feels good in a dull sort of way so he rubs it, eyes closed and brain not fully on board with what he’s doing, his body just reacting of its own volition.  
  
“Excuse me,” Chris’s voice says, dancing with laughter, as his weight dips the mattress next to Sebastian’s hip. “Doin’ my job for me over here.”  
  
Sebastian stills, and keeps his eyes closed, tries not to be too upset with himself because Chris doesn’t sound angry.  
  
“Up.” Chris pats his hip.  
  
Sebastian tries, but his leg muscles scream at him, and he winces.  
  
“Oh,” Chris says, realizing. He blows out a slow breath, and then leans over to kiss behind Sebastian’s ear. “Legs sore?”  
  
Sebastian nods.  
  
“You were scrunched up under that desk for a long time, huh?” Chris clicks his tongue sympathetically, but still sounds aroused by the memory. “Okay. Okay, I can work with that.”  
  
Chris grabs his pillow instead, and helps Sebastian up just long enough to tuck it under his hips, angling his ass out so Chris has better access to it. He crawls back between Sebastian’s legs and then his hands are spreading his cheeks apart, humming happily at the sight and attaching his lips to it again.  
  
“Mmph,” Sebastian responds, helpfully, as his brain shorts out and everything goes white and sparkly around him. Nothing but sensation, just Chris’s soft tongue on his most intimate place and the softness of the pillow for his abused cock to rub on and the burn of Chris’s beard back on sensitive skin. Sebastian’s going to be sore on every inch of his body by the time this is over, feeling it all for days, and he’s going to love every second of it.  
  
The tip of a finger nudges at him, giving him only a moment to anticipate what’s going to happen before it’s sliding into him, twisting around, massaging his inner walls and making Sebastian moan.  
  
“Beautiful,” Chris murmurs, against him, the word vibrating through Sebastian’s body. Sebastian doesn’t know if Chris means the noises he’s making, the sight of his hole taking Chris’s finger, or maybe all of the above, but he glows in the compliment anyway. He’s always thrived on compliments and withered without them, and none mean more than the ones that come from Chris.  
  
“Ready for another?” Chris asks, and Sebastian mumbles, “yeah.”  
  
Chris removes his finger and licks him instead, soft, lustrous swirls of his tongue around the loosening ring of muscles, able to get his tongue in deeper than he could before. Sebastian shivers and fights not to hump the pillow underneath him because _God_ it’s good and he doesn’t want it to be over just yet. Wants to ride this wave for as long as he possibly can, and then maybe make Chris fuck his face again just for the overstimulation.  
  
Instead of a single finger, Chris unexpectedly pushes back in with a much larger intrusion – three fingers, Sebastian realizes through the haze – and he whimpers and tenses automatically.  
  
“Shh,” Chris keeps licking, and massaging with gentle fingertips, and whispering encouragement against Sebastian’s skin, “relax, gorgeous. Let me in. Gonna feel so good.”  
  
Sebastian tries, tries to breathe even though he’s panting, to concentrate even though his mind is racing while Chris keeps coaxing gently, and it works enough for him to finally get three fingertips past Sebastian’s rim.  
  
“Fuck,” Sebastian breathes, and Chris keeps going, and it feels massive, so much bigger than two even though he should be used to this by now, but he never is because it’s Chris, and Chris Evans is impossible to become fully acclimatized to. Sebastian’s so full, aching and bursting and nearly sobbing by the time Chris’s fingers have pushed in all the way and the tip of one is rubbing deliberately at Sebastian’s prostate. He knows exactly where it is, so practiced he doesn’t need to search, and he focuses on it like a laser, sending electric shocks down Sebastian’s spine, making him shout.  
  
“Can I… fuck, _Seb_ , baby,” Chris is moaning, breathing harshly, fucking him hard and deep with three fingers while Sebastian cries out loudly, wantonly, embarrassingly. Then all at once they’re all gone, pulling out of him and leaving him empty, gasping, desperate to have them back. Chris is up, and then he’s on all fours over top of Sebastian, leaning down to nibble at his earlobe and pant harshly into his ear. “Baby,” he says again.  
  
“Chris,” Sebastian whines. His hips pump of their own accord, sliding his aching dick along the pillow because the pressure in his ass is gone.  
  
“Was supposed to be all about you this time, but I…” Chris lowers himself, draping the entire length of his big body along Sebastian’s back, and his hard cock slots in between Sebastian’s ass cheeks. He thrusts, rubbing it along the seam. Sebastian doesn’t know when he got naked again.  
  
“Shit,” Sebastian swears, electricity shooting through all his extremities.  
  
“You’re so fuckin’ sexy,” Chris rumbles to him as he slowly fucks the crease of his ass, absolutely smothering Sebastian in his bulk, the hair on his chest scratching between Sebastian’s’ shoulder blades. “Got myself too worked up, doin’ that to you. Tasting you, hearing all your noises, watching that sweet little hole swallow my fingers up like it never wanted to let them go.”  
  
“Never,” Sebastian repeats. Needy, delirious, positively wrecked but always, always hungry for more.   
  
“Can I fuck you?” Chris begs. “Please, I –”  
  
“Yes!” Sebastian yells. “Anything, fuck, _please_ , I just – I need to – just get _in_ me.”  
  
Chris pushes himself back up, and, over the blood rushing in his head, Sebastian can distantly hear the sticky sounds of lube being spread around. The blunt head of Chris’s cock catches on Sebastian’s slick, swollen rim one more time, and then Chris is pushing in, forcing him open wide around his considerable girth. They moan in unison, Chris cursing like a sailor, because that’s how he gets when he’s this worked up. Sebastian adores Chris’s dirty mouth.  
  
“Oh God, oh God, _fuck_.” Sebastian’s inhalations are quick, shallow, while his hands grip the sheets on either side of his head hard enough to make his knuckles turn white. It’s nearly too much, Chris’s dick stretching his already abused ass further than even his three thick fingers had, and he clenches down instinctively around the intrusion. It makes Chris cry out and his arms shake, as he finally bottoms out. He stills, panting, trembling with the effort of keeping still so Sebastian can get used to the feeling of suddenly having a cock up his ass.   
  
“I’m fine,” Sebastian breathes because he is – it’s nearly too much, but also not nearly enough and he needs Chris to fuck him into the mattress in the next five minutes or he’s going to scream. “Just – give it to me. _Please_.”   
  
Chris doesn’t need any more convincing, thank God. Torturously slowly, he draws back his hips, sliding out inch by inch until just the tip is still inside of Sebastian, and then he drives forward, shoving back inside in one long thrust.  
  
“ _Aahh_ , _Jesus_ ,” Sebastian groans, because even though he asked for it, the sudden move punches the breath from his lungs. Chris doesn’t even give him time to catch it again, because he’s already pulling out and pushing back in again, finally fucking into him just like Sebastian had begged him to.  
  
“Feels so fuckin’ good, baby,” Chris grunts, sounding less and less put together by the second. His breathing grows labored as he slams into him over and over again, making Sebastian’s body rock up towards the headboards, inch by inch. Sebastian’s dick is rubbing against the pillow below him steadily now, and when Chris pushes himself up a little higher, bracketing Sebastian’s almost closed thighs with his own and starts hitting his prostate head on with each forceful, increasingly erratic thrust, Sebastian shouts.   
  
“ _Fuck_ , Chris,” he moans, moaning louder than he’s been at any point this afternoon. “Fuck me, deeper, oh my God.”   
  
“This what you wanted, sugar?” Chris growls, over the obscene sounds of his thighs slapping against Sebastian’s ass. “My dick inside your ass, filling you up? Do you feel full enough now, huh?”   
  
“So full,” Sebastian slurs, delirious with it, so close now he can taste it in the back of his throat. “So fucking – so, _oh_ , oh my God.”   
  
“Tell me what you want, Sebastian.” It’s an order, clear and dripping with authority despite the wrecked timbre of Chris’s voice, and it makes Sebastian’s animal brain scramble to obey.  
  
“Fill me up,” he begs, shameless now, too far gone to care about embarrassing himself. “Come in me, _please_ , Chris. Need to feel it.”   
  
“Oh, you beg so pretty, sweetheart,” Chris breathes, sounding awed. “So good for me. Gonna give you what you need now, fill this sweet little ass right up…”   
  
“Do it,” Sebastian cries, teetering on the edge, and then Chris’s hips stutter – deep, unerring thrusts turning sloppy before he pushes in deep one more time and stills, burying himself inside of Sebastian as deep as is humanly possible.   
  
The feeling, or maybe rather the idea, of Chris’s hot release flooding his insides, marking him, claiming him, has Sebastian’s brain whiting out completely, his body seizing up around Chris as he falls headfirst into an earth-shattering orgasm, all the more intense for how long it’s been delayed.   
  
He comes so hard he blacks out for a moment, and when he more or less comes to again, it’s with the comforting weight of Chris’s spent body pinning him down onto the bed, his heaving chest pressed to Sebastian’s sweaty back.  
  
Sebastian loses time and himself. There is movement, surrounding him, small noises, changes in the light, but he barely perceives any of it. Like he’s wrapped in a translucent bubble and can only see shapes through it, not details or hard edges. Heat leaves him, and then returns, and then leaves again, something warm rubs between his legs, making him twitch because it’s sensitive but even that sensation is dulled, all filtered through the lazy, floaty cloud that surrounds him.  
  
He’s aware eventually, maybe a long time later, of Chris talking to him. Gone are the growls and barked orders of earlier. His voice is a little higher, a lot softer, with loving notes on the melody of it that Sebastian’s heart understands even if his brain can’t quite catch up to it. He’s being moved again, and strong arms are surrounding him, and a solid chest becomes his resting place. Safe, protected, loved. For a while longer, he just floats.  
  
The first word he can comprehend is a reverently uttered _beautiful_. Then, _so perfect, baby boy, so good for me._ Sebastian blooms in warmth, stretches like a cat and then nuzzles into the chest under his nose.  
  
“There you are,” Chris murmurs. Gentle, affectionate.  
  
“Chris,” Sebastian breathes, on a long sigh.  
  
“Lost you for a while,” Chris whispers back, fondly.  
  
Sebastian shakes his head. Because he couldn’t. Chris could never lose him. “Right here,” he slurs.  
  
“Oh, I know. I know, sweetheart.” Chris’s lips find his forehead, and linger. “Right where you belong.”  
  
“You got more paperwork?” Sebastian asks, smiling dopily when Chris laughs.  
  
The low, resonant timbre of his soft chuckle vibrates through them both. “God, you’re a brat,” Chris says, and it sounds a lot like _I love you_.

**Author's Note:**

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>   
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